At The Temple
by DeviWan
Summary: I was a demon, yes, and I find it impossible to let something like my Itachi go. He was a human who loved a demon. He was something rare. I'd like to tell you of my story, of the things that led up to my attack on Konoha, and the breaking of what we had.


Title: The Temple

Pairing: Kyuubi/Itachi

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

**Warning: Yaoi and grammatical mistakes, as this story has not been beta-ed.**

**The Temple**

Thinking of the first time we met always brought out a growl of pleasure from my chest.

I was an old demon who resided in the forest in the Fire Country. I'd already given up on counting how long I've been around for; after a century or two it just got irritating. There were civilizations, young ones, and they scare so easily. I didn't want to scare them as I found much amusement in watching them, so I forged my shape, changed it into one that humans were familiar with. I changed into just a small, normal fox, as I'm sure that they would notice a gigantic, nine-tailed fox. When I set out to wander aimlessly around the Fire Country, the Great War has just ended. Everywhere I went, humans talked about the hero, the Fourth Hokage. Even though the war has ended, the conflict has not.

He had been around three when I saw him. His father was a titled a Jounin and was leading his own team on a mission. It got me curious that I would find a little toddler on a mission. It got me doubting, for a second there, on how much I knew about humans. I found out later when the toddler's father, Fugaku I think, complained about babysitting his own son on a mission. The man did not complain convincingly, as he only frowned and grumbled under his breath. He was a cold one, that one.

The group was setting up camp for the night, which did not displease the team at all, I saw, and the Uchiha father had put light seals around the clearing to prevent his first born form wandering off. He hid it well, but it was apparent that he cared deeply for his son.

I approached them, wary and slow, as only a young, curious fox would. They didn't suspect a thing. The women of the group left me some food and I nibbled at them. They cooed at me, which did nothing but boost my ego. They left me to wander around with them and I occasionally swish my tail to ease their worry. I approached the baby; I called it just a baby at first, as I hadn't been too sure of its gender. It was a tiny little thing, really it was, with balled up chubby little fists and a nose as cute as a button. Its eyes were big and dark, two endless orbs that dominated its little face. Its hair was just at its small shoulder, not long enough to be tied back and it had huge blankets wrapped around its tiny form. If there was a picture for 'precious,' that was it.

When I approached the child I showed only curiosity, and it stared back at me with wonder. It was silent and those big, dark eyes seemed to be analysing me. It made me happy, somehow, to know that the child was smarter than other child. Of course it should be, as I only appreciate the best. Anything it looked at it remembered and analysed. It stared at me for a while and I stared back, just as analysing. I would not be surprised if it knew my real nature. In fact, I was sure that it knew that I was not just a fox. It was aware of me; saw me, while its father and protector did not.

When I was sure that I'd taken enough of him in, was sure that I could redescribe any of his features, I stalked closer to the toddler wrapped heavily in blankets. Its guardians tensed with anticipation but I'd been there hours and proved that I was not a threat. The baby, whose name I did not know back then, freed its right arm from the thick layers of blankets and stretched the tiny limb towards me. I remembered seeing this as a gesture and snuggled my head in its soft touch. Its hand was delicately soft and so tiny. Big, dark eyes brightened, but nothing else gave away its excitement. For a three year old human child, it had surprising control.

That was when I got a good sniff of its scent and knew that it was a baby boy; it was a he. His presence offered me a sense of amusement, something to do in my long, long life, and so I stayed with him all night. He only petted my head with his chubby hand, and then, before the night was over he was snuggled in my fur, seeking warmth. I shared my warmth and he shared the blankets. We were one big bundle of fur and skin and limbs and blankets.

It was horrendously uncomfortable for me. With every breath I took during that night I was aware of how fragile the child was, of how easily I could break him with just one paw. It made me uncomfortable to know that there was something in the world so small and delicate.

I found out later that the mission was a simple delivery. They were to deliver a simple scroll, and I wondered why a man like Uchiha Fugaku would do something as mundane as this mission. It turned out that it was not quite as simple as that, considering the number of rogue ninjas and bandits after the scroll. I didn't mind the attacks from the rogue ninjas and bandits too much; it was entertaining to see the action, but when it happened Fugaku would hide his child away on high branches. It was disconcerting. The attacks occurred more and more the further the group got away from Konoha, and every time little Itachi was left up in the trees. He was out of sight, but never out of smell. Wherever he was, he was always in danger.

The innocence in his eyes, the trust that everything would be okay, slid further and further away the more he saw. He watched his father shed blood, watched the thirst for bloodshed in the eyes of the enemies. He was three and he was watching death.

I'd like to think that it was out of the kindness of my heart that I travelled up the trees and took his eyes away from the sight below, but really, I just wanted to be physically close to him. Itachi was a smart boy, and knew distraction when he saw one. It didn't take much to get him to hide his face into my fur. I followed him everywhere after that. The shinobi squad didn't mind, seeing as they had other matters to pay a mind to. The reason for me following the child around, I told myself, was purely because I had nothing better to do.

He became my favourite human, and the mission ended much too soon. I had to say goodbye. I remembered Itachi questioningly stare at his father's stoic face as he was carried away on the man's shoulder… away from me, the fox, who stood alone outside the gigantic gate of Konohagakure. It was the sight of a tiny, chubby arm reaching out for me that almost broke me in half. The desire to be bigger took hold of me, to be bigger and be able to take him in my arms and carry him away.

It didn't make me feel too great, I remembered. I was The Kyuubi, a demon, supossedly all power and rage and hate. What I was experiencing was like a poison to me. Then there was the guilt, the heavy, shameful guilt. How many centuries of age difference? I remember being ready to go on, that _that_ was goodbye, but I only wanted the best. If it was really a goodbye, I wanted a proper one, not one where he was being carried away. I wanted to see the child again, hear him coo at me under his breath and feel his warm little hand in my fur. I wanted… one more, and being the clever, obviously superior, sexy demon that I was, I developed a plan.

The plan involved me, and my sexy, sexy self, sneaking into the Uchiha compound. Itachi was a smart boy. Once he saw me he'd know to keep it a secret.

It worked for a couple of years, surprisingly, and I was really content. Itachi _was_ smart enough to keep it all a secret, so it went well. Then his mother had a second child. That's when everything changed. The presence of Uchiha Fugaku's second child, vulnerable, fragile thing that it was, had the clan put security to a whole new level. Patrols doubled, guards at every door and corner. I wasn't able to walk one step without encountering a guard. I was kept away, and Itachi alone.

I watched him from very, very afar. I watched the five year old crumble, day by day as he sat alone, waiting for me. He would come to the lakeside, where we usually met, and wait for me for hours upon hours until the guards were able to locate him and bring him home. I knew that I broke his tiny little heart, and the demon part of me felt gleeful. This was what he got for trusting a demon, but a much bigger part of me broke with him. My Itachi. And who else could I blame, but the newborn, Sasuke. Somehow, not having been in the world for more than a few weeks, he ruined my world. It was because of that stupid baby that my Itachi lost faith in me.

I sulked and hid away in my cave. Fresh air and food be damned. For the life of me I could not erase his crushed expression from my head. His white, lost little face glared at me every time I closed my red eyes. I comtemplated my existence, truly, for what was I living for without Itachi? Then that cursed man came into my domain. It was a man of rage and hatred, with a powerful aura and a cursed soul. It made me wonder why I was the demon and not him. Uchiha Madara; founder of the Uchiha Clan: a clan that had a little of my blood in their veins. Their prized Sharingan was only a gift from me. And I shouldn't have been so stupid, so suicidal to look into them.

The next thing I knew, I was rampaging through the Fire Country with unjustified rage. I didn't know where it came from, but the rage was incredible; it gripped my veins and clutched at my heart, controlling my limbs. It was the first time I've felt so alive since leaving Itachi. I was aware that the rage was not my own… but that did little to calm me down. I wasn't just raging… I _was_ rage.

I _wanted_ to be stopped. Once I got through the forest, and then the gate, the Uchiha compound was beyond that. The thought woke me up a little. It was one thing to be stupid enough to be enslaved by Uchiha Madara, but it was another to even harm Itachi. Unthinkable. I did the next best thing I could do; I delayed my attack on the village. I delayed for as long as I could and waited for the Yondaime to come. I knew what he planned, I knew what he was going to do to me, but I didn't care; anything to stop me from going anywhere near Itachi. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I harmed him. A human that held so much love from a demon was so rare. He was something that happened once every few hundred years; I couldn't lose him, not ever.

I was sealed.

The Yondaime placed me in the stomach of his newborn son. My struggles and curses on that fateful night were nothing short of acting. I remembered seeing the Yondaime falling, crumbling with a broken heart at having put his son's life to hell like that. Then I remembered seeing a tiny face amongst all that blood and fire, a face written with confusion and shock, hurt and pain. I laid to rest in shame; I knew how much Itachi hated violence.

**XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX**

I rested and rested, drowning in my misery. I let the boy, Naruto, live his life and stayed out of it. For years, all I heard was what was going on outside and the sound of my own heartbeat. Itachi's small face was clouded in the back of my mind; a distant memory that stole my heart. I woke for the first time in years when raw pain and anger stabbed at my heart. It was not my own. My host pulled at my chakra and fought with killing intent, but _my_ eyes rested on the face that looked too much like _him_ for comfort. I stared and stared before I decide that the face belonged to Sasuke, the cursed newborn. After that incident, I remained awake, always looking out for my beloved.

He didn't come though; he never appeared in Naruto's life. My host drew chakra from me often, always in the face of danger. And for that, I felt proud. It meant that he would never use my chakra for unjustified reasons. For a pathetic human, he had a pure heart. His bright headed father would've been proud.

Then, as if my silent prayers finally paid off, _he_ appeared. In all his dark, beautiful glory; he appeared.

He stood at the doorway, looking down at Naruto as if he was no more than mere bug. His face remained cold and expressionless and I felt my heart drop. No, I felt my whole soul drop. Where on earth was my innocent Itachi? I remained frozen for a few minutes, just watching as Naruto watched the events unfolding between the brothers. Then I felt raw anger; this time it was my own. My Itachi was lost and gone, in his place stood an emotionless killer, a murderer, a man who wiped out his bloodline.

This wasn't the angel I fell in love with. This was not the angel that held my heart hostage. My chakra out of Naruto and the giant fish man took it away as if it was nothing. Then I watched as my heart fled with the murderer as they escaped the toad's stomach. The blue man gave my host a triumph grin before following the beautiful killer. It was a stilled moment, too dreadful to be real…

Oh, yeah, then I watched as one of The Great Sannin got beat up by a guy wearing green spandex… a sight that would forever scar my impure mind.

That was when I started planning like the clever fox that I was. I sent scouting waves of my chakra out and around. The waves were so tiny and unnoticeable; nobody would suspect me to be the one behind it. My scouts searched for my gigantic body; sealed and buried underground. I stole (from myself) enough to form a male human body. It wasn't hard, seeing that before I became a demon, a few hundred millenniums ago, I was a human. I barely remembered being human, but I was pretty sure that I was downright sexy. I made the body into what I looked like all those years ago and slowly transferred my soul into the body.

I became a tall, colossal man, not too big mind you. My shoulders were broad, my body hugged with hard, but lithe muscle. My chakra did the rest. My body suited me perfectly. Everything about the red eyes, the scorching red hair, the sharp claws and the well-endowed form screamed me… … Okay, I admit, when I was human the first time around I wasn't this beautiful, but… what could I say. My Itachi deserved only the best, and the best I was.

The seal on Naruto's stomach proved to be the work of a genius that it was, and I could only transfer my soul and a tiny bit of my chakra into my human body. Then I was a walking, breathing human with half of my other self in a boy's body. But I was plenty proud of my accomplishment.

Then I settled out to find the killer who possessed my Itachi's body. During these times, Naruto was out with that stupid Sannin on a three years training missions. I made sure not to stray far from them, seeing that I needed my link with my original power source. Then I found the temple. The temple that belonged to me a few thousand years ago. I had completely forgotten about this one. This temple had enough power to support me for years, so I stayed there and let Naruto go on with his life. My remaining conscience would protect him well enough.

Being in the temple restored my mind. I was able to deal with the loss of my Itachi. He was gone. And now, whoever had taken his place would pay. It didn't matter that he was still so beautiful, so small. He was not my Itachi. My Itachi would never harm anything; he'd most definitely never erase his whole clan off the face of the earth. Thinking about this new Itachi always brought on pain, but my temple had been built to worship me. It contained my essence, my chakra and thousands and thousands of years of history.

I didn't have to wait long. It seemed that this temple was a hideout for Itachi and his partner, after all. It seemed they came here regularly and stayed at opposite ends of the temple. This was good, this was _really_ good. I confronted him in my fox form, the form that he no doubt would remember. He dropped the kunai that he was sharpening and stood up in defence. He's face remained expressionless and that angered me to no end. The moonlight from above favoured him and shone on him like a lovely halo. He glowed. The pain of seeing him again proved too intense for me to bear, and I realised the genjutsu. I became a man and stood up in all my glory… which wasn't much seeing that I was naked. But never the less I stood tall.

I glared at him and hoped he received how much I hated him.

Despite my hatred for him right then, I still couldn't help but marvel at his beauty. Out of all the things that I've seen in all my long years of living, he was what I could call real beauty. His small limbs had grown long and slender. Soft muscles hugged his lithe form as his slender neck held his pretty face. The tiny, rounded face had been replaced with a face of pure beauty; a face that held softness, femininity and masculinity in it. He was still breathing through his mouth in his state of surprise. His eyes… oh, his eyes! They were still wide, so lovely… so unfitting for a killer.

I moved forward, but my movement was awkward ad jerky. There was something in between my legs, hot and heavy and tingling. I was aroused.

"Kyuu," he whispered. It didn't surprise me that his complete control of himself never wavered. "What…" he started, but I stopped him when I gripped his pale neck and threw him out into the garden, shattering the window into tiny pieces of broken glass. The garden was well kept, but not anymore. I watched as he sat up dazedly, blinking to adjust to the moonlight and not the candle light. He looked like he was sin pain, but I wasn't sure if that was from my roughness… or his cursed eyes. He panted as he wiped the blood from his cheek. I knew I had the advantage, he would never lift a finger against me; that much I could be sure of.

His clothes bothered me; it seemed unfair that I was naked and exposed while he was covered up and protected. Even if he was a murdering son of a bitch, he was mine, and I deserve to see what was mine completely. I moved fast and got rid of his clothes, ripped them to pieces. My alluring prey stood naked, too shock to move against me and I threw him into a tree. I stalked over; my intentions clear in my raging eyes, and roughly grabbed his soft hair. I pulled, so he was looking into my eyes. "Have you been a good boy, Itachi?" I hissed. I gripped his hair harder and he gasped in pain. So soft…

He opened his mouth to answer, or retort, but I didn't want to hear the voice of the murderer. I wanted to hear my Itachi's voice. This Itachi did not deserve to speak. So I slammed my mouth onto his. He gasped in surprise and pushed at me. It must be painful. The kiss was not meant to be soft and loving. If it was painful, then it was all for the better. He tried to push me away, but failed to. I thrust my hips forward, into his smaller one, wanting him to feel of what was soon to come and smirked when he whimpered. I let go of his hair and wrapped my left arm around his slender back, while the right one went down to his rapidly hardening member.

I see he's not feeling as punished as he should be… No matter. If Itachi was still as prideful as he was, then feeling aroused should be punishment enough.

I squeezed his organ and he threw his head back, soft mouth opening into a small 'o' shape. He exposed his throat and I attacked. I licked and sucked at his pale neck, biting and marking him as if he was raw meat and I was a starving demon. The feel of delicate skin on my tongue was just as I imagined. I grounded my hips forward again, trapping him between me and the tree. I watched with glee as his red eyes widened, no doubt feeling my hard erection on his stomach. I unbounded his fair hair and watched hungrily as it flowed down his porcelain skin like a river. Everything about him was inviting. I took that silent invitation.

I growled again in need, lust and all my other emotions. I don't remember what I did, but he wrapped his slender arms around my head and shoulder, losing his hands in my flaming red hair. I could clearly see where this was heading, and oh but I wanted it. All thoughts of avenging my innocent angel vanished out the window as he gave me a throat full moan. My lips attacked his neck again as my finger went south. He gasped and arched his back into me as I inserted a finger into him, stretching and opening what was rightfully mine. I moaned when I felt the heat and softness surrounding my finger. I inserted two more fingers, enjoying the view as he made noises and writhe into me. I never expected this when I first laid eyes on him, all those years ago, but I could not complain. There was nothing in this world that I wanted more than him… nothing.

I gave him one more lick on his pulse before picking him up and slamming him into another tree. Our movements were quick and rough. He spread his legs and wrapped them tightly around my waist and wound his arms around my head. His breath was warm and moist, mingling with mine. He bucked his hips into me, wanting me in him no doubt. Of course I was going to make him say it. My Itachi only moaned and made soft noises, but never any sound that was loud or wanton

"Say it. What do you want? Hm, Itachi? Have you missed me?" I growled. I slammed him once more into the tree, just to make him feel the painful dig of the bark.

He gasped quietly and writhed; thighs clenching my waist and eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy. "Yes," he moaned. "I want you… I want you, Kyuu." Such an alluring voice he had…

"Good enough," I growled. I put my hands on his butt cheeks, spread them and pushed in. He gasped and grunted while I moaned and growled. He was so quiet, this little boy. Would it hurt him so much if he would just scream and yell my name? I pushed all the way in and stopped. My preparation obviously didn't help ease his pain by much, and I was happy about that. He bucked his hips to ease his pain, only adding to my pleasure, and big dark eyes narrowed at me. I pulled back out, marvelling at how incredibly tight he was… and so very hot too. I slammed back in and screamed. Our sweat-slicked skins slapped against one another, and if not for my determined grip Itachi would be at risk of slipping.

That was all that was needed to start the spark. Soon all I could remember was slamming into him again and again, all the way in and nearly all the way out. I marked him in every possible way, because I needed him to know that he belonged to me. My hands were tight grips, and he would be bruised afterwards, and my teeth bit into him wherever. I loved the sound of his voice as he moaned and panted and gasped. He ducked his head, if only a little shameful, and panted into my neck. While I slammed into him, I held onto him tight, afraid to let go. Our climax built up gradually, tighter and tighter, hotter and better as my hips snapped harshly into him. Soon, we had to spill. He spurted his hot white seed all over our chests while I spurted mine into him; marking him, claiming him. I sank to the ground, him with me. Bliss was what it was…

XXX**xxx**XXX**xxx**XXX

He was going to take off once we were done. I took him again and again, all night long. Every time, after I came into him, he would struggle to get up, to get away. And every time, I would pull him back down onto the grass with me. We never spoke a word. There was worry in his eyes, worry for the blue-skinned man, and I made my jealousy very clear. The blue man would not be trouble to me, not when he was sleeping away under my heavy genjutsu.

Now, my dark haired angel lay next to me. His hair was a mess, tangled and spread all over the ground and in his face. He was still so beautiful. His fair skin was bruised and marked, occasionally bleeding where I bit just a little too hard. It stirred something deep within me to see this, to see that he belonged only to me. On his hips and thighs were large bruises and if I looked closely I could see that they were in the shape of hands… my hands. He was marked, mated, mine. If the bruises were not proof of this, then surely the large amount of my seed dripping out of him was. He was mine, and he knew this.

The knowledge did nothing to cease his glare. And if glares could kill… I would be nothing but a pile of skin and blood. This boy sure knew how to glare.

Still, glares could not kill, and I smirked at him. I raised my hand, the one that was propping my head up as I lay on my side, and brushed it along his hair. He tried to shift away, but he had nothing left, not energy. His Sharingan had long ago turned off, unable to withstand the intense pleasure. I took him several times, drained him, and now he had to choice but to lay there and realise that he was mine. My hand reached his chin, and I gripped it. I leaned over his lithe form, my breath warming his face.

"You saw this coming, surely," I whispered. "You knew from the beginning that I was never just a fox." He was silent. "Did you love me, like I love you?" I had to know. This man before me was a murderer, a killer, a monster, but I had to know if he was still my Itachi. I could not accept that my Itachi was gone. I assumed that he was, at first, but my temper has always gotten the best of me. "Talk to me," I growl.

And when he spoke, oh, he had such soft, lovely voice. "You attacked my village," he glared at me. "How could I love something that killed so many?"

The hypocrisy of that question amused me. "And what about you? You, who wiped his own clan off the face of the planet. You, who had no qualm leaving his brother to suffer instead of granting him mercy and killing him. I should be asking myself, why do I still love you, when I know exactly what you are?"

I didn't think that this new Itachi could manage to look hurt, but he did, he managed it just fine. Big dark eyes sunk back, widened a little, and my stomach dropped. It occurred to me, just a little, that he might have had me wrapped around his little finger. I ducked my head down, away from his piercing sight. "I don't understand how you could do this." I wanted to say that he was not my Itachi, not my love, but my hand moved on its own and cupped his precious face. I was torn.

Uchiha Itachi was beyond any limit, and he proved this by sitting up. I've drained him completely, took him again and again. And he was about to get up and walk away.

"I'm not what you want anymore, then. Don't find me again," he said.

And I wanted him to shut up, shut up! He was putting words in my mouth, confusing me more and more. I will always want him. I had no idea why he would kill his own family and torture his little brother, but I will find out. If he did turn out to be a heartless killer, then I will love that Itachi. He was mine.

"Goodbye." He never got a chance to fully realise what was going on, before I pulled him back down. The only thing that probably would have registered, I was sure, was my possessive, dominating growl.

"No, you're mine!"

* * *

Please leave a review! I'd like to know what you think of this one-shot.


End file.
